


Love and Other Drugs

by MsMK



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AUs, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Polyamory, Selfcest, Smut, Spicyhoney - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-11-21 09:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18140447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMK/pseuds/MsMK
Summary: This is where I will post any and all Pap/Sans/Fontcest oneshots, drabbles, gift works, and commissions!I know I usually write xReader, so here is another warning to not read if you don't like it!Fluff, angst, smut, and more...





	1. Polyruses: BabyMamaDrama

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is for Lazy Hazy, based on their adorable polyruses!
> 
> Warnings: implied/obvious self-harm and comfort, m!preg/skelepreg
> 
> Note: While I usually use Mutt, SF!Papyrus is referred to as Hickory. And UF!Pap is Edge instead of Boss, like I normally use. I went with Lazy Hazy's nicknames for this one!

“edge, y’look so fuckin’ cute!” Stretch cooed, kissing the top of Edge’s head affectionately.

“SHUT UP.” Edge crossed his arms, looking away, disgruntled.

“HE’S ONLY BEING HONEST, DEAREST,” Papyrus soothed, coming over with two cups of coffee in one hand and another in the other. He slid the single cup over to Edge. “HALF-CAF, SAFE FOR THE JELLYBEAN.”

Edge hummed, displeased, even as he leaned into the sweet kiss to his forehead a bit more than he had with Stretch, causing his other boyfriend to pout pathetically as he draped his arm over the back of the breakfast nook and around his shoulders.

“I’M NOT CUTE! I’M FEARSOME!” Edge simmered, shrinking more into his scowl and his crossed arms.

He couldn’t help that the little baby bump made all of his clothes look small. He couldn’t help that the magic currently working on his little jellybean was making him look nicer, softer, less abrasive. He couldn’t help that he wanted to snuggle more often than not! This baby was going to be the death of him, or at least his reputation.

“of course you are, mama bear,” Stretch soothed, pulling him closer. “but you’re also cute, and that’s alright, too.”

“IT IS  _ NOT _ ALRIGHT.” Edge huffed, sipping at his coffee. 

At least the morning sickness had passed, but now he had this belly...it uneased him, knowing his pregnancy was too obvious to hide now. He felt vulnerable and paranoid, like somebody might attack at any moment...in his universe, expecting monsters dared not step out of their homes until the young was old enough to defend themselves, but here it was… celebrated. He got compliments wherever he went, and people offered him their seats and other comforts. He’d broken three people’s hands for touching his belly without permission, and suffered severe panic attacks after each incident, along with other episodes throughout the pregnancy. Stretch, being a writer that works from home, had taken to going everywhere with him unless somebody else could, just to be sure somebody was always there and also to deflect people from touching by engaging them in conversation with his supernatural charm.

“HANDS OFF,” he growled, slapping Stretch’s hand away from where he had been rubbing the belly. He knew it wasn’t nice, and he knew it always hurt Stretch’s feelings, even if he didn’t vocalize it...but he can’t help but feel anxious, even when his mates touched it.

“sorry, sorry,” Stretch mumbled, drawing back and humming, picking up the cup of coffee Papyrus had left for him instead.

“NO, I’M SORRY,” Edge sighed, rubbing his eyesockets tiredly. “I DON’T MEAN TO BE THIS WAY, I KNOW I SHOULD BE INCLUDING YOU MORE, I JUST...GODS’ SAKE, I’M SO EXHAUSTED.”

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT US, DEAREST, YOU JUST TAKE CARE OF THE JELLYBEAN HOW YOU SEE FIT,” Papyrus cooed softly, sliding into the breakfast nook beside him. Seeing his shoulders taken by Stretch, he extended his arm behind his back to rest on his waist. “WE DON’T LOVE YOU ANY LESS FOR YOUR INSTINCTS--WE’RE ONLY HERE TO HELP YOU, NOT STRESS YOU OUT MORE.”

“s’okay if you’re a little high-maintenance. what else is new?” Stretch teased. “with you cookin’ it, we can be sure jellybean is safe, so it’s no big deal.”

“THAT SOUNDED LIKE AN INSULT, AND YET, KNOWING YOU, I’LL REALIZE IT WAS A COMPLIMENT THREE DAYS FROM NOW.”

A long yawn drew their attention to the doorway, where Hickory was dragging his sleepy self into the kitchen. As usual, he completely ignored all three of them, not yet awake, and the interruption brought a rare moment of real silence over the room as they watched their boyfriend fumble with the coffee pot, drifting off standing before starting awake to dig up a coffee cup from the cupboard. Waking up had always been hard for Hickory...they think it has something to do with how much taller he is than the rest, like his magic takes more time to start circulating.

“GOOD MORNING, HANDSOME,” Papyrus exclaimed, surprising Hickory and making him fumble his cup. It clattered to the counter and coffee splashed everywhere.

“fuck!” Hickory cursed, jumping back and grabbing a towel to sop it up with it. “big, dumb, clown hands...jeez.”

A giggle bubbled up from Edge, and everyone looked over at him in surprise as he laughed genuinely for the first time in weeks.

“NYEHEHEH...I'M SORRY, I SHOULDN'T LAUGH, SHIT,” he giggled, shoulders shaking as he tried to control the hysterical laughter.

“see? adorable,” Stretch chuckled, his easy smirk returning.

“nice to see that i have  _ bean _ entertaining,” Hickory joked, and Edge's laughter stopped abruptly, his face dropping into the most unamused scowl. “fine, fine, i'm sorry, sorry. good morning.”

“GOOD MORNING,” Edge relented, leaning forward to accept the kiss that Hickory offered, before Hickory moved on to kiss Papyrus warmly, and finally slide in next to Stretch, who wrapped his other arm around his shoulders and pulled him in to kiss him softly.

Edge couldn't help but smile as he sipped his coffee once more, knowing that at the very least, he can trust his lovers to be by his side through all of this.

* * *

“I SINCERELY HOPE JELLYBEAN ISN'T LIKE THAT,” Edge moaned, covering where his ears would be as a child in a nearby cart screams bloody murder to punish their parent, who, apparently,  _ dared  _ to not get them Captain Crunch.

“JELLYBEAN WILL BE WONDERFUL!” Papyrus said distractedly, reading the label on the can of soup, likely seeing if it had cilantro due to Stretch's allergies.

Stretch hummed and leaned against the freezer on the other side of the aisle, sighing, clearly enjoying the cool.

“you know, if ya took the sweatshirt off, you might not be so hot,” Hickory mused, leaning against the freezer as well. “but, can't say i don't enjoy the look of you sweatin’.”

“i was gonna say, who are you to complain about me bein’ hot?” Stretch chuckled, leaning over to kiss Hickory teasingly.

“STOP FLIRTING AND GET YOUR WAFFLES, OR WE'RE MOVING ON WITHOUT YOU TWO!” Edge snapped, sidestepping the large woman approaching him. “TOUCH IT IF YOU WANT TO LOSE A FINGER, LADY.”

She huffed and grumbled about rudeness as she snatched her hand back from where she'd been reaching for the belly.

“ _ I'M _ RUDE? I DON'T EVEN LET MY MATES TOUCH IT, BUT YOU THINK YOU CAN STROLL OVER HERE AND FEEL UP A STRANGER'S MOST VULNERABLE PLACES? ARE YOU SAYING I SHOULD LET YOU MOLEST ME?”

Hickory and Stretch exchanged a glance as Papyrus moved on down the aisle as if Edge wasn't squaring up against a middle-aged woman in the middle of soups and ice cream.

Hickory stuck an arm through one of Edge's arms, and Stretch hooked the other, dragging him down the aisle after Papyrus as he shouted obscenities at the bewildered woman.

“LET ME GO! I SHOULD TEACH HER TO TOUCH PEOPLE WITHOUT PERMISSION! HMPH!”

“all that anger is stressin’ jellybean out, princess,” Hickory soothed, patting Edge's head. “jus’ relax, okay?”

He huffed and went limp, allowing them to drag him unhindered around the corner towards the cookies.

“...FINE. BUT I WANT OREOS.”

“anything for you, mama bear,” Stretch cooed, kissing the top of his head.

* * *

“bed time, big man,” Stretch cooed softly, wrapping his arms around Edge’s shoulders where he sat at his computer, trying not to nod off while he worked on some reports for his job.

“I’M FINE,” he yawned, leaning back against his lover. “I’VE GOT TO GET THESE REPORTS DONE.”

“and they will still be there in the morning, so right now, you and the little jellybean need to head to bed.”

Edge hummed, displeased, but recognized that Stretch was probably right. Sleeping is already uncomfortable as it is, he should try to get as much as he can. He let Stretch lead him from the chair to the bedroom, mind wandering as he brushed his teeth and got dressed in pajamas. He wondered what color the baby’s magic would be, and if they would take after him and Papyrus, or maybe Hickory and Stretch? A baby that could teleport would be...challenging. But a baby that throws bones everywhere when it throws a tantrum? Equally challenging.

“IS THAT WHAT YOU’RE WEARING?” He asked, snapping out of his reverie when he noticed Stretch waiting in bed wearing a long-sleeved henley instead of his usual tank top. Papyrus and Hickory were already fast asleep, snuggling beneath the covers together with Hickory scrunching up into Papyrus’s arms.

Stretch raised a brow, pausing in the act of rearranging the pillows for him. “uh. yeah? somethin’ wrong with it?”

“YOU WORE THAT LAST NIGHT. AND THE NIGHT BEFORE.”

“and i’m a stinky garbage man that you love in spite of my flaws, this isn’t news,” Stretch chuckled. “come on, it doesn’t actually stink.”

“STRETCH. IT’S 85 FUCKING DEGREES IN THIS HOUSE. WHY ARE YOU WEARING LONG SLEEVES?” Edge frowned, crossing his arms and readying to dig in for this argument. “YOU’RE GOING TO GET HEAT STROKE.”

“i’m sorry, since when is my sleeve length up to you?” Stretch snapped, catching Edge off guard. “just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you get to tell everyone what to do.”

“EXCUSE ME? I’M ONLY TELLING YOU I WON’T SLEEP NEXT TO YOU IN THAT THING,”  Edge snarled back. “IT’S TOO HOT AND I’M ALREADY UNCOMFORTABLE MOST OF THE TIME!”

“fine.” Stretch got up and sidled past him, moving to the door.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

“gonna go sleep on the couch, since you decided to be a fucking bitch about it,” Stretch huffed, slamming the door shut behind him.

Edge stared at the door, rage boiling as Papyrus and Hickory barely even stirred at all the noise, and with a frustrated noise he turned and flopped onto the bed, slamming his sockets shut and trying to sleep. Forget it, it wasn’t worth it, Stretch is just being an asshole--it’s his default setting, really.

...still...he feels bad about letting him leave. Edge isn’t the type to let things lie like that, and it would be the first time any of them had ever been allowed to sleep on the couch. Normally, they all dig in and argue until the problem is resolved...it really isn’t like Stretch to run off like that.

Aaaaaaand now he’s worried and wide awake. What if there’s something deeper he isn’t seeing? What if his dumb pregnancy brain is missing something he would normally pick up on? Stretch  _ never _ outright snaps at anyone like that, it isn’t how he works. He never storms off, either--that’s all Edge’s brattiness. Stretch may get mad but he always tries to talk it through.

It’s cruel to leave it in the air like this. And over something as dumb as a shirt! Maybe it _was_ his pregnant hormones making him a bitch.

With a groan he dragged himself up from the bed, laying a hand on his belly.

“ALRIGHT, JELLYBEAN. LET’S GO FIX THINGS WITH PAPA.”

He turned on the fan near the bed so even with his long-sleeved shirt, Stretch could sleep comfortably, and then padded over to the door where he’d seen Stretch disappear.

He almost called out for him, but the moment he opened the door, he heard a sound that made his soul drop into his stomach.

Stretch was crying. And it wasn’t a little cry, but big, heaving breaths, not unlike Edge’s panic attacks, and before he could stop himself he was moving through the house, looking for his lover frantically.

He didn’t know why he didn’t see it sooner. God, he felt so dumb for not recognizing the signs--Stretch had been jumpy and spaced out for days now, and the long sleeves, the fingerless gloves, the hands in his pockets? He felt like an idiot for not recognizing his boyfriend’s cries for help.

“Stretch.”

It was said softly, with empathy, and the sobbing halted momentarily, before bubbling over into a dry heave as Edge knelt next to the makeshift safety fort Stretch had built out of cushions to reveal his distressed lover. Edge reached in, softly brushing the tears away from where they were staining his cheeks.

“no, don’t--”

“Shhh...it’s alright, love,” Edge cooed, quiet and reassuring. He cupped Stretch’s cheek, and Stretch pressed his face into his hand as if to hide it. “Let me see.”

Stretch hesitated, holding his breath until it gasped out, and slowly, Stretch’s shaking hand touched Edge’s.

Edge squeezed it, retracting his hand from Stretch’s face to push the sleeve of his shirt up to the elbow.

Small, but deep, the jagged scratches marked his wrist like a cruel tattoo. The fading scars of the past were nothing to these, fresh and not unlike those Edge had seen on his brother in the past. He didn’t know nor care what had triggered these--they looked a few days old, at least, so his current concern was what was happening now.

Stretch snatched his wrist back, babbling through his tears as his shaking increased, and Edge shushed him softly.

“There, now. Breathe, it’s alright. I’m not mad,” Edge said quietly. “I want to help you, darling, not hurt you.”

Stretch shook his head, unable to voice whatever he was thinking, and Edge inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to cry himself. He can’t stand to see his family in pain…

“Let’s clean you up…” Edge offered, and Stretch shook his head slightly. “...please come back to bed.”

Stretch sobbed and threw his arms around Edge’s neck. Edge caught him, holding him tightly as Stretch sobbed. He exhaled shakily as tears poured from his sockets.

“sorry, sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry--”

“Shhh, none of that,” Edge soothed, picking Stretch up effortlessly. Stretch made a noise of disapproval and Edge chuckled, blinking his own tears away. “Shush, I’m pregnant, not broken. I can carry my lover to bed.”

He did just that, and by the time they got to the bedroom, the shaking had subsided considerably, and Stretch lay draped over Edge’s shoulder, his face pressed into his neck.

Edge nudged him towards the bed, and Stretch clambered off, shooting beneath the sheets and curling into himself. Edge sighed and scooted into the bed next to him.

“Stretch.”

“no.”

“You don’t want to snuggle with jellybean?”

There was silence as Edge leaned against the pillows, and he watched Stretch look over curiously. He patted his belly, and before long, they had adjusted so Stretch could do just that, pressing his face gently against the baby bump and arms and legs wrapped around Edge like a koala.

Edge hummed, stroking Stretch’s skull softly. He supposed, afe in bed at home like this, it wasn’t so bad to have somebody else touch the belly. In fact, the butterflies in his belly were fluttering, a warmth and connection…

“WHA--HUH?” Papyrus groaned sleepily, having rolled over and woken a bit at the disturbance. “HOW COME STRETCH GETS TO CUDDLE THE TUM?”

“He needed it,” Edge sighed, before raising a brow at Papyrus, who sleepily pouted at him, but seemed to accept it.

“...I WANNA TOUCH IT TOMORROW,” Papyrus grumbled.

“You can all touch it tomorrow. Go to sleep.”

This seemed to be all the convincing Papyrus needed to pass right back out, and the soft sniffling of Stretch took his attention again.

“Better?”

Stretch nodded, fingertips drawing small circles on Edge’s belly. “...their soul is so little.”

“Very, very little,” Edge confirmed. “They are the size of a cumquat right now.”

“so small…” Stretch mumbled, sockets drifting shut. “cumquat sounds gross. can it be the size of a pork bun instead?”

“The app says cumquat,” Edge chuckled. “Are you going to argue with the app?”

“...no.” Stretch smirked a little, and Edge relaxed, drawing his fingertips from Stretch’s skull to his cervical vertebrae. “...i love you.”

“And I love you, very much,” Edge reassured him. “Don’t you ever doubt that.”

There was a soft hum, and then silence as Stretch fell asleep, and Edge settled into his pillows. It was a lot more comfortable with someone holding the belly for him...he had to admit that.

He had been so focused on his lovers being there for him, that he had fucked up and forgotten to be there for his lovers. A rookie mistake.

He won’t make it twice.


	2. *A Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch has a condition, and sometimes his hand isn't enough.  
> Someone else's hand, now, that's where it's at. As unexpected as it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: SpicyHoney (UF!Pap/US!Pap)
> 
> Smut: dub-con, hand job, Blowjob, assisted masturbation

At least Stretch could say that he  _ tried _ to take care of himself.

It had all started because Stretch had forgotten his medicine, go figure. He let his medicinal tea get cold on the workbench while he worked on the stupid machine, so determined to get it where he wanted to go and not just to the neighboring universes.

Being without his meds isn't a slow process for him. His hypersexuality turns everything into a farce, leaving him a shell of who he could be--he had thought, once upon a time, that he slept around and helped himself endlessly because he was depressed and bored, but they found out once they reached the surface that it was the opposite. In reality he wasn't himself  _ because  _ his magic levels were so high, as if in constant low-level heat.

So, forgetting his medicine had resulted in trouble, trouble he had to take care of before anyone else came through the portal for Blue's dinner party. He'd never live it down if he ended up greeting Mutt or someone with his dick in his hand.

It was always a lot worse when he hadn't forgotten in a while, as if trying to catch up. Drinking his tea down quickly had helped, but it wasn't enough.

How this had happened...

To be honest, it was all a bit hazy at the moment. 

Boss catching him, all frustrated tears as he failed to help himself along. Boss, striding across the room wordlessly, and Stretch thinking he had a fairly big lecture in store--

Later, when his mind was clearer, he'd have a few things to say about the way Boss had his hand wrapped around his cock, leather gloves creaking as he hurried Stretch along to a climax he so desperately,  _ desperately  _ needed.

The other hand was effectively stopping Stretch from making those dumb comments, wrapped carefully over his face to muffle his moans and whimpers, resting his head back against his shoulder firmly.

"Quickly, now," Boss murmured against his skull, his voice deep and dark and intensely erotic. "Come on, you need this, don't you?"

Stretch whimpered, knees weak, but Boss' leg between his kept him upright. Red leather caressed soft orange magic, and it was such a foreign feeling that he couldn't help but groan in pleasure.

"Yes, that's it, Rus," Boss sighed, thumbing the head of his cock, causing him to jerk into his hand. "Cum for me."

"don't tell me what to do," Stretch huffed, and the hand over his mouth tightened, which only served to make him hornier.

Before he knew it the script was flipped, and Boss was pressing Stretch's own hand over his own mouth.

"Not a sound," he hissed, eyelights burning crimson. Stretch quivered beneath his gaze, keeping his hand firmly there as Boss sank to his knees, using two strong hands to press his pelvis back against the wall.

Stretch stifled a moan as Boss throated him swiftly, efficiently, using an incredibly dexterous tongue and two well-placed fingers to tease his orgasm from him. It was the last bit of stimulation he needed, and he put a hand on Boss' skull, wavering between warning him and making him choke on it, but, seemingly reading his mind, Boss took him fully, staying stock still as Stretch doubled over, trying not to cry out as he came, thick and hot inside Boss' summoned throat.

He shuddered as Boss' teeth scraped gently, his tongue ensuring all had been released before he sat back on his heels, wiping honey-hued magic from his teeth as Stretch quickly collapsed to the cold floor, magic dismissed and the clarity of a good orgasm and his medicine settling in. Boss huffed and moved closer, roughly pulling Stretch's pants into place, buttoning and zipping. Stretch had a joke about clothes and sex and...but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to use it.

The absurdity of the situation dawned on him as he watched Boss lean back, stripping his gloves off with a grumble. His edgier counterpart leveled a glare on him when he chuckled, as muffled and weak as it was.

"well, damn. you help out everyone you catch jerkin' it or am i special."

"SHUT UP," Boss growled, standing quickly. "I ONLY DID IT BECAUSE YOU NEEDED IT."

"i did," Stretch admitted, panting and leaning his head back against the concrete wall. "...thanks."

"YOU'RE WELCOME." Boss stood and dusted himself off. "TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, IDIOT. YOUR BROTHER HAS TOLD ME WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DON'T MEDICATE AND I'VE NO DESIRE TO LOOK AT MY DINNER AND WONDER IF YOU FUCKED IT."

"well, you didn't seem to complain about eating me just no--"

He cut off when Boss' hand gripped his cheekbones, crouching in front of him less than a foot away.

"And if you would ever like a repeat performance, you'll shut your fool mouth," Boss growled.

"wait, an encore is actually on the table?" Stretch asked, raising a brow bone high in surprise and skepticism.

"Actually, an encore would be on the bed," Boss teased, before leaning in and kissing his thumb, the only thing separating his teeth from Stretch's. "Now finish up your work. Blue wants you to pick the movie."

With that, he stood and strode briskly out the door, leaving Stretch more than a little stunned…

...and, if the bulge in his pants was any indication, incredibly turned on.


	3. *Encore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boss didn't intend to give his encore so soon. But damn, he was bored and Stretch was so tempting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Last chapter "A Helping Hand" because apparently I can't ever just leave things at one.  
> This one is a fucking MONSTER of a oneshot, it was supposed to be a drabble, what has my life come to.  
> This is all keelywolfe's fault! Go read her amazing works!
> 
> Pairing: SpicyHoney
> 
> Warnings: mentions of possible past forced prostitution
> 
> Smut: fingering, oral, Ecto bits, control, leather kink

He was certain that the moment they were alone again, Stretch would start asking questions. Never the one to accept a good thing at face value, though clearly all too willing to accept help from easily his least favorite person.

He had really only intended to help out--he'd seen the look on Stretch's face as he failed to service himself, and he'd heard many stories of his condition, that much was true. But what made him take the step in wasn't pure in the least--he'd stepped in because he was curious.

He'd never had sex before. The most he had done was exactly what he did for Stretch in the basement, just touching and oral. It got the job done. 

It was...fine. With others. He'd been a part of a Blackmail Blowjob™ or two in his time in Underfell, and he had to say that while his preference was for the non-blackmail kind, he also didn't see it as so terrible to  _ be _ blackmailed into it. The fact that so many monsters thought him agreeable enough to blackmail him into blowing them, well, that was a bit of an ego stroke, wasn't it? It wasn't as if he couldn't just kill them for daring to threaten him.

No, he'd always chosen to give in to their blackmail, precisely  _ because _ they knew he could kill him. He could still kill them, at any moment, and therefore they kept their traps shut about it, mostly because if Red ever found out…

...well. Red had done a lot of things he wasn't proud of to keep him fed growing up, things that still haunt him even if he denies it. Let's just say Boss wasn't looking to inform him he was doing the same for a leg up in the underground, not when everything Red did was so he wouldn't have to.

But Stretch. He could have left it, maybe called on Blue to gather whoever it is Stretch sticks his dick in usually. He could have turned around.

But like the blackmail...it wasn't as if he had no choice. It was more that his curiosity got the better of him.

What  _ does _ he look like when he cums? When he needs to cum so badly he'll take anyone, even Boss? What noises does he make, and does Boss look like that, too?

Of course he nearly ruined it by talking, but that was just Stretch. He'd been that way since they'd met, all sarcastic wit and bad jokes and playful brattiness. Energetic, sleepless, brilliant, ridiculous Rus. Why they changed his nickname to Stretch, Boss will never know--he liked calling him Rus. Perhaps it was too similar to their true name, that could be, but…

Irrelevant. He'd felt Stretch shudder when he'd called him Rus, trembling beneath his fingertips. He knows, at the very least, that Stretch will never again make the mistake of thinking Boss to be predictable.

"YOU'RE LATE!" Blue huffed as Stretch appeared in the doorway to the stairs. "BOSS DID ALL THE PREP YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DO!"

"sorry, bro, got a little...distracted down there. i need a cig, okay?"

Blue's face changed, and Boss tried not to eavesdrop. Blue had been down lately, even Red had noticed, but him quietly accepting that his brother needed a smoke was new. The back door slid open, and into the gray evening Stretch stepped.

"BOSS, WHEN YOU WENT DOWN THERE...WAS P--UHM, WAS MY BROTHER ALRIGHT?"

"OH, HE WAS  _ JUST _ FINE," Boss reassured him.  _ Once I was done with him _ , he thought, but didn't say. "DID YOU WANT ALMONDS ON TOP OR ON THE SIDE?"

"ON THE SIDE. YOU'RE SURE HE WAS FINE?"

Boss raised a brow at the tiny, soft version of his brother. "SHOULD HE NOT HAVE BEEN?"

"NO, I JUST...WELL, IT'S NOTHING."

It isn't nothing. But Boss doesn't press it--these things can be delicate, and perhaps he thinks he's respecting his brother by not voicing his concerns.

It's just as well. Boss likes to keep his secrets.

Especially ones about annoying, gorgeous skeletons that sound so very enticing when they moan for him.

* * *

Stretch can't keep his hands from trembling, smoking shakily in the cool, pre-thunderstorm air. He should tell Blue to nail down the tarp over the garden, but he can't think of that right now.

He can only think of red leather gloves and the smell of something vaguely spicy in the air, the way Boss' teeth had  _ almost _ touched his.

What the hell was he trying to pull? Just helping out? Boss helps Blue, not Stretch. He helps cook and clean and keep the yard, but not with the machine or...his condition. Was it some sort of weird payback for letting them stay? He had heard from Red, in a rather bitter, drunken conversation, the sex was a form of currency in their world--a rare commodity. Find the right kind of sex, the right desperate monster, and they would give you anything in return. He gets the feeling Red knows more about it than he'd like.

But Boss. He was a helper, and also prideful to a fault--if he was paying him back via a view of him on his knees, then what was with that offer of an encore?

He could hear Mutt and Black inside, so he went in for dinner, but he couldn't help but itch--for another cigarette, another cup of tea, another chance to see Boss on his knees...he wasn't picky about how he takes his meds.

Dinner was excruciating, the movie even worse--why did he think it was a good idea to pick something with John Stamos in it?  _ Have mercy. _

His hands were never idle, but apparently it was worse than normal because Blue elbowed him in the leg.

And of course Boss had decided to sit where he could see him, maybe reach out to him--but not close enough to whisper to.

Blue was smiling, huge and fake, at something Papyrus was saying about the movie, Sans resting with his head on his femur. Red was almost asleep, and Mutt was curled around Black like a makeshift couch. And Boss…

...Boss was watching him as he watched the movie.

He'd been turned on by weirder things. Hulk Hogan. Shrek. The My Pillow guy from the commercials.

But Boss' gaze lingering on him from time to time was different.

He adjusted the blanket in his lap, grimacing at his persistent magic sleepily coming to life, waking from being sedated by the tea and the cigarette. What an awful time.

"I'M BORED. THIS MOVIE IS BORING."

Stretch jumped at Boss' sudden interjection, as did everyone.

"YOU SUCK AT PICKING MOVIES. I'M GOING TO RETRIEVE THE REST OF MY THINGS THAT I LEFT WHEN WE WERE STUCK HERE. UNLESS YOU PUT THEM SOMEWHERE, ASH-TRASH?"

"we didn't leave any--oof!" Red groaned as he received a swift kick in the ribs for his interruption.

"i, uh. i dunno, it's...probably somewhere?" He offered, confused. Boss rolled his eyelights and stood, grabbing the hood of Stretch's sweatshirt and dragging him upright.

"SHOW ME, THEN, SINCE YOU ARE SO UNSURE."

No one thought twice, even as Stretch stumbled up the stairs after his edgy double. No one even looked at them. 

He was glad they didn't.

"ready for an encore?" He breathed, and Boss rolled his eyelights, using his two fistfuls of Stretch's sweatshirt to steer him into the bedroom, letting the door shut before pinning him to it.

Pressed to the door, with red leather roaming over his pants to palm his excited magic, he was  _ very  _ glad nobody asked.

"SHUT UP."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Stretch sucked in a breath when Boss gripped him over his pants, leaning in with a curious sparkle in his sockets.

"...INTERESTING CHOICE."

He loosened his grip, instead drawing gloved fingers gently over the soft buzz of pussy lips beneath the fabric. Stretch huffed, gripping Boss' upper arm.

"hey. i just pay the tab, i don't tell it what to wear."

"I WANT TO SEE IT."

But he made no move to undress him. He only stood his ground, lightly pressing Stretch to the door.

"uh...okay?"

" 'OKAY'?" Boss raised a brow bone…

...and it dawned on him that Boss was asking for consent. For some reason, it hadn't even been a question for him. And, ashamedly, he had assumed Boss wouldn't care about it for a moment.

"oh! oh, yeah, yes, enthusiastic yes," he blurted, bringing his hands to his waistband. Boss stepped back, crossing his arms to watch as he dragged his pants down, stepping out of them. His sweatshirt was long enough to cover, so he grabbed it, ready to pull it over his head--

"LEAVE IT."

He raised a brow but didn't question it, dropping the fabric to drape as usual over his lanky frame.

Boss indicated the bed, and Stretch followed. He normally snarked a little more, but he was curious to see what Boss wanted from him. He flopped on the bed gracelessly, a cheeky grin on his skull.

"all yours," he teased, opening his legs wide.

"DON'T MAKE PROMISES YOU CAN'T KEEP," Boss snapped back, a slight twitch of amusement to his smile.

"callin' me a slut?"

"I'M CALLING YOU AN UNPREDICTABLE MESS. HOLD STILL."

Stretch shuddered at the sensation of leather swiping down the length of his slit, sensitive and already wet from the prospect of this performance.

Boss mapped it methodically with hungry eyelights. Intriguing. None of his previous partners had been female, so he hadn't much experience with these, save for his own. He would love to discover this one, though--perfect, honeyed magic, glittering and glistening and oh, he imagined the beating it must have taken throughout his life, how many things or cocks had stretched it wide like his moniker. Compared to his virgin folds, there was a sense of dignity about Stretch's, a sort of experience.

To see Stretch shudder from a tiny touch was...good.

Could be better.

"y'gonna stare all day or y'gonna touch me, boss-man?"

"I'M GETTING THERE. PATIENCE, OR I WON'T BE GENTLE."

There was a slight tremble to Stretch's bones now. "oh, gods, i hope you aren't gentle."

He's tempted. Goodness knows, the stories he's heard, Stretch can take it. But he wasn't here to punish him--he was here to satiate the curiosity that drives him through life.

Gloved hands wandered over pristine bones, unmarred by war and completely unscathed by wrath. These bones had never seen the horrors of a fell-verse, and it showed.

Stretch shuddered as the red leather dragged along the inside of his ribs and spine, the magic in his pelvis pulsing with desire.

Boss stripped one glove, testing and teasing with bare bones, and those vermilion eyelights watched Stretch with calculated attention. Was he that much of a show, Stretch wondered? He'd been told he looked good when coming undone, he'd heard he looked good on a cock or buried deep, or even getting himself off.

But nobody had ever...just  _ looked _ at him. He squirmed under Boss' gaze just a little, but strong hands on his femurs kept him still. He thought, with a bit of disappointment, that Boss might remove the other glove, but to his secret delight he didn't, instead wrapping his gloved hand firmly around his spine as sharpened tips teased his folds, excitement and danger in every stroke. He tensed whenever the clawed ends scratched too hard, but Boss is a quick learner and soon magic coated his fingertips, sharp enough to be exciting but not to hurt.

"pretty good with those fingers," he huffed cheekily.

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH IF YOU CAN TALK COHERENTLY," Boss growled back.

"why, though?" Stretch asked, humming as two fingers glided inside him gently, curiously. Too gently--he would have thought Boss would be giving it to him hard and fast without mercy, and he felt restless and more than a little mouthy.

"WHY WHAT? WHY ARE YOU TALKING? GOODNESS KNOWS I DON'T HAVE THE ANSWER. PERHAPS YOU'RE A SADIST THAT ENJOYS PUNISHING MY GOOD DEEDS."

"oh? fingering my pussy is a good deed, then?"

"IT WILL BE WHEN YOU LOOK A MESS BENEATH ME, UNABLE TO STRING TWO WORDS TOGETHER."

"don't make promises you can't keEEeeep, mmmaaah,  _ fuck _ !" Stretch swore, trailing off as a shudder of pleasure overtook his body, a long, hot tongue swiping over his sensitive mound. 

A deep chuckle vibrated against his folds, that tongue moving slower and more meaningful, and it felt so good that it was almost too much.

A gentle nip of his sharp teeth sent a shudder through Stretch's body.

"oohhh, fuck me sideways."

"SIDEWAYS? WELL, IF YOU INSIST."

Stretch squeaked as Boss flipped him onto his side, aligning their bodies in a horizontal mockery of earlier in the basement. His hand moved between Stretch's legs and gripped him roughly, more like he'd expected him to and Stretch moaned as Boss curled two fingers inside him.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this, Rus?" Boss growled as Stretch's hand flew up and grasped at the air before finding purchase on the back of Boss' head. "No need to answer, your cunt is telling me everything I need to know."

Why was he teasing him like this? Stretch knew Boss had a cock to give him, he could feel the warm bulge in his pants pressing against his tailbone. He wanted it, but he wasn't about to start begging  _ Boss _ of all people, so instead he focused on his own pleasure, on the feeling of leather on his spine and ribs, exploring beneath his hoodie. He'd never considered having a leather kink before but then again, he'd never felt it quite like this. Certainly he liked the look of it enough, so it only made sense that it would drive him wild.

"What do you need, Rus?"

Stretch wanted to slap him. He needed to be  _ fucked _ ! Boss knows that! 

"what do you think, asshole?" He growled, only for Boss to press hard and deep with his fingers, hitting something almost painfully pleasurable. "ah! fuck!"

"I want to hear it."

"i...i need…" He was so close, fuck, if he just pressed a little harder-- "harder, please, more!"

"As you wish," Boss purred, obliging him, enjoying the way his jaw fell slack, caught speechless for once in his life, and then the noises, they were so beautiful. "That's it, so noisy."

His own magic was embarrassingly hard and excited, but he ignored it, instead gently moving down his temporary lover's body to take in the view.

Without Boss to support him from behind, Stretch fell to the mattress exhausted, his hoodie bunched up around his ribs and all his joints flushed a gentle orange as he trembled through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Pristine. Perfect. Flushed with pleasure, and who had done that? Boss, he had made him look that way.

If he wasn't careful, this curiosity could turn into an addiction.

"why not fuck me?" Stretch groaned, a dissatisfied edge to his voice.

"YOU DIDN'T ASK FOR IT." Truthfully, it was because he wasn't sure about giving Stretch that power over him, the token of his virginity and the currency of his moans.

It earned a chuckle from his partner, though, and so Boss smirked.

"you're the worst."

"BUT YOU LIKED IT."

"i did." He looked up at him from under his arm. "are we gonna talk about this...thing…you've decided to start?"

"I WAS BORED, AND YOU BENEFIT FROM IT MEDICALLY. IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE THAT NEEDS TO BE SAID?"

Stretch eyed him silently for a long moment. "...hm. guess not. c'mere, then, lover."

"DON'T CALL ME THAT," Boss grumbled, but he did as Stretch asked, leaning in and letting his counterpart pull him closer.

A kiss, and it was heavy with lingering pleasure. Stretch's tongue was as honeyed as his words, and Boss found himself...disappointed...when it was over.

He'd avoided kissing him for this very reason. He hadn't been looking to get attached. Just to sate his curiosity.

But there was something about how unafraid Stretch had always been, so willing to bait him and mess with him, as if he weren't at all scary...how he can lean in and kiss him with confidence. Coupled with that look in his eye, the intoxicating scent of his arousal still thick in the air...

"YOU'RE A DEVIL."

"what, did i make you fall in love just now?"

"YOU SHOULD TALK LESS," Boss hissed. "I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOUR ONLY NOISES ARE THE ONES I MAKE YOU MAKE."

"but if i talked less, it wouldn't be as much fun, would it?" Stretch smirked when Boss stayed silent. "next time, i wanna see what you've got going on down there."

"WHO SAID THERE WOULD BE A NEXT TIME?"

"just assumed. you know, since you seem so keen on pleasing me."

Boss rolled his eyelights, moving from the bed to fix himself. Stretch shrugged and did the same, hunting down his pants and debating on changing his sweatshirt. He wasn't sure how long they'd been up here, but his room is very purposefully soundproof so he didn't need to tip anyone off by smelling like sex.

Before he could decide, a hand on his arm caused him to turn, and in two long strides, Boss had him against the door, and he was kissing him with twice the fervor he had a moment ago. Stretch could only groan and try to gain some sort of purchase, but Boss was firmly in control no matter what he tried to do.

When Boss pulled away, they were both panting, and there was something in his eyelights that sparkled with a sense of  _ challenge. _

"IF YOU WANT THIS, YOU WILL CALL ME THE NEXT TIME YOU NEED IT. NOT ANYONE ELSE."

"yeah, sure," Stretch mumbled, dazed, trying to lean in for another kiss. Boss pushed him back against the door again, denying him.

"YOU WILL NOT SEEK ME IN MY WORLD. YOU WILL CALL ME HERE, AND YOU WILL WAIT. YOU WILL NOT RELIEVE YOURSELF NO MATTER HOW LONG IT TAKES FOR ME TO ARRIVE. IF THOSE ARE UNACCEPTABLE CONDITIONS THEN YOU CAN FORGET ABOUT THIS EVER HAPPENING AGAIN, WE WILL FORGET THIS EVER HAPPENED TO BEGIN WITH, AND EVERYTHING WILL GO BACK TO NORMAL."

"i understand," he agreed, eyes flicking to the gloved hands holding him back.

"GOOD BOY."

A pat on the head, and he released him, moving past him and through the door with all the confidence Stretch would never have, leaving Stretch to sag against the doorway, still processing everything that had just happened.

See, the problem with encores is they always leave you wanting more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was so much fun to write! I'm sorry it's so wordy, it's over 3000 words lol
> 
> [I have moved this series to its own story ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153846/chapters/45524260)


	4. Yes (BAON AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge is still getting settled in his new apartment, but there's only one problem--the previous tenant orders a lot of damn catalogues, and clearly hasn't informed them of his address change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO.  
> I know it isn't the neighbors AU I was thinking of??? BUT??? I heard [ this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sc9LcsNDly0) and I absolutely had to write an AU Spicyhoney for it.
> 
> This is an AU of the By Any Other Name series by @Keelywolfe! In this AU, the skeletons didn't all come through at the same time, and Stretch and Edge haven't met until much later, when Edge had settled in some. I'm hoping this is in-character, I really liked writing it!

Edge grumbled as he went through the mail in his hands.

_ Stretch, Stretch, Blue, Stretch, StretchStretchStretch-- _

Whoever these people were who lived here before he and Antwan did clearly hadn't gone through the trouble of leaving a forwarding address for him, and he supposed it was obvious they hadn't notified the Post Office of the change either--he could probably send them back to the Post Office with a "Not at this address" stamped on, but he'd already caught his roommate trying to toss them and some of them looked important. He would hate for what appeared to be medical bills to go unpaid, and even more so for this Stretch person to go into debt because he was never given a fair shake to pay it.

So he'd done his research at work and come up with the phone number for Stretch in his database of registered monsters. He was delighted to find that at least  _ that _ was up to date, and "borrowed" the number somewhat illegally so he could call from home that evening.

Which is good, because at least 90% of what came in today was for him. City Farmer magazine, a Pet Feed Supply catalogue, bills, bills, more bills, InsiderTech...he sure had a lot of subscriptions. As he listened to the phone ring, he thumbed through the pet feed catalogue curiously--mostly chickens and rabbits. He'd never considered owning those, but it did look intriguing--he wondered if Stretch actually had them or if he was looking to buy.

The line clicked, and someone spoke.

_ "heeeelloooo?" _

Edge blinked. He hadn't expected a voice so similar to his own. "Ah. Yes. My name is Edge, how are you doing today?"

_ "gooooood. whatcha sellin', mr. 'edge'?" _

"I...pardon?"

_ "you're a telemarketer, right?" _

Edge frowned. "Goodness no. What gave you that idea?"

_ "unknown number, instant introduction, 'how are you doing today good sir'?" _

Ah. Maybe he'd been using his work voice more than intended. "Oh. Apologies, I've just come in from work and it's hard to turn off."

_ "so you  _ **_are_ ** _ a telemarketer." _

Edge chuckled in spite of himself. "No, I'm a civil servant."

_ "kinky." _

"In any case, this  _ is _ Stretch I am talking to, yes?"

_ "yeah, but i'd like to know ahead of time if this will cost me money so i can shake down my piggy bank." _

Edge rolled his eyelights, smirking. "Funny. No, it won't take more than a moment. I live in the Baymont Ridge apartments and I think you forgot to update your address with the Post Office. We are still receiving your mail, along with a few for someone named Blue?"

_ "oh." _

He waited, and when it didn't seem like he would elaborate, he pressed. "...'Oh'?"

_ "my brother and me. you need me to get it?" _

"Yes, I've been stopping my roommate from tossing them, if I had a forwarding address--"

_ "oh, no, i'll just come get it. apartment 4, yeah?" _

"Oh! Yes, of course, that's fine."

_ "cool, i'm close by. be there soon." _

Before he could say goodbye, the line cut, and he hesitantly set his phone down.

Well, he could probably ask for a forwarding address when he got there.

* * *

The last thing he'd been expecting when he opened the door an hour later was another skeleton.

He and his brother were the only skeletons around these parts--seven years since the barrier broke and he'd been dragged through time and space here, most monsters had branched out. He supposed he'd always wondered if Sans had ever pulled anyone else through that machine of his, but for some reason he had thought he would at least tell him.

Clearly not.

The skeleton in front of him was obviously just as surprised to see him, what was certainly a terrible knock-knock joke dying on his teeth. He was dressed for the summer heat, a short-sleeved shirt with a hood and cargo shorts, beads of honey hued sweat trailing down his neck.

Edge tried not to notice his stare lingering on the scar over his socket.

"Come in," Edge said, before he could recover and likely finish the knock knock joke.

Stretch did, breaking his stare to gaze around the apartment, lost in thought. Most were trying to decode the skeleton living in his old apartment--he'd known there were more he hadn't met, and it was obvious from his bone structure that he was a Papyrus--but, uh, he sure wore that bone structure a lot better than Stretch did.

The second thing he noticed was the surgically clean apartment--it appeared to be dressed and ready for a  _ Better Homes & Gardens  _ photo shoot, the only thing that stood out as strange being the collection of action figures in the living room. But then again, they appeared meticulously placed and cared for, so they fit right in.

There were some pictures on the wall, and when Edge moved to the kitchen, Stretch stilled, looking them over.

Well, that must be his Sans, all red and black with a golden tooth. They must come from a rough universe. 

A picture of Edge in jogging gear, surrounded by human and monster kids of all sorts in front of a "YMCA" sign...they looked like they'd been throwing paint at each other or something, but it was an all-smiles zone. Huh. Hot  _ and _ nice. Is he really technically the same person Stretch is?

The next couple of photos were him and some human--well-dressed, sharp features...a picture perfect couple.

"a damn shame," Stretch muttered, his soul sinking in his chest. He should have known, it was silly to assume he was available. 

"What's a shame?"

Edge watched his counterpart jump, a little guilty.

"oh, uh, just that we haven't met before. i mean...i assume…"

"That I came about through Sans' machine? I did." He held out the mail, and Stretch took it. "I suppose life has a way of springing the unexpected on us."

"yeah, that’s true, i guess." He said, wiping at the sweat on his temple. He must be hot--it's easily 87 degrees Fahrenheit plus moisture.

"Would you like some lemonade?" Edge asked, gesturing to the kitchen. "I just made it."

"oh, man, that would be awesome!" Stretch said, smiling wide. Edge smiled warmly--it's nice to make an impression on someone that isn't immediate fear and distaste. He knew for a fact that Stretch had CHECKed him the moment he laid eyes on him, so it was nice to see he was looking past the dust on his hands.

He poured him a glass, giving him another once-over as he plopped into a kitchen chair.

He was taller than Edge, and probably Papyrus as well. Evidently he’d led a fairly easy life, unlike him and Red, or even Sans and Papyrus--he was showing a decent amount of bone and they were perfectly unmarred, no sign of even a day’s worth of training on them, let alone hardship. If they’d met earlier Edge might resent him for that, or for the way he made lemon-based puns as Edge carefully placed a wedge of lemon on the lip of the glass.

But working with troubled teens as long as he had, it was easy to see the fakeness in his smile, the careful laziness in his posture. There’s a carefree attitude about him, but it doesn’t strike him as entirely genuine--a defense mechanism, he supposed. But why?

He took a plate of cookies left over from yesterday’s bake sale and brought it over with the lemonade.

“Here you are. Cookie?”

“regular martha stewart here,” he snorted, but he noticed he made no move to take the cookie, eyeing it warily as he took the lemonade.

“I’m a little bit better at cooking than Papyrus is,” he assured him, and Stretch snorted, taking the cookie. “How long have you been in mixed territory?”

Mixed territory was the outer ring of New New Home, open for humans and monsters to coexist peaceably. Edge had worked fairly hard to make it happen these last few years, and he was interested to see what Stretch thought--if it was also subtle digging at what was bothering him beneath the surface of his smile, well, that was just habit.

“moved here as soon as sans let me. er, my sans. the other one left us alone pretty quick.”

“I see. And you moved? Still in mixed territory?”

“yeah, lived here with my bro, but he wanted his own space. so i moved in with my friend down by the beanery instead.”

Edge’s eyelights brightened at the mention of the Beanery. “Ah, I love that place. I exclusively buy my coffee beans there.”

“i have a weird game going with the owner to see how fast she can make my crazy drink orders.”

“So  _ you’re _ the one who started that,” Edge chuckled. “I was wondering who could make her put up a whole new chalkboard.”

Stretch started to respond, but first he took a sip of the lemonade and audibly groaned.

“i completely forget what i was going to say. this is amazing. what mix do you use?”

“Lemons and sugar,” Edge said with a smirk.

Next went the cookie, and he snatched another one up immediately, before hesitating. Edge scooted the plate closer in invitation, and away went three more cookies, mostly the lemon-honey ones.

“aw, fuck, these are so good,” Stretch groaned. “you have a very lucky husband.”

Edge raised a brow curiously. “I don’t have a husband.”

“boyfriend. whatever.” Stretch shrugged, and Edge continued to stare blankly at him in confusion. “the nicely dressed guy in your pictures?”

A snort of laughter escaped Edge’s chest at the suggestion. “Antwan and I are not involved. We’re roommates, and very good friends, but I’m not nearly his type, nor is he mine.”

Stretch’s sockets widened in surprise, and then he coughed a little, smirking sheepishly. “oh, uh, sorry. i just assumed.”

“What about you? How long have you been around? Anyone special?”

“a few years. my brother is thinking of joining the embassy and stuff, but other than that and my roommate i haven’t really been out there.” He was scratching at his cervical vertebrae, a look in his eyes as he didn’t meet Edge’s eye. “m’plenty social but for some reason, uh, not many people wanna stick around.”

He started to say something else, but paused, instead shoving another cookie in his mouth as an excuse not to talk. Stop prying, was the message Edge received.

“you, uh, what do you do? it must be quiet 'round here for someone like you, who…”

_ who has such high LV, _ Edge finished in his head as Stretch trailed off, eyelights constricting as sweat began to bead again, clearly fearing he’d ruined whatever thing they had going.

“I work for the embassy in media and human/monster relations. I also volunteer with troubled youths at the Y on the weekends, and I bake for the weekly bake sale at the retirement home. It passes the time nicely.” He looked at Stretch, gauging his surprise. “I’m not afraid of my LV. I did what I needed to do to survive. But here, I don’t need to survive. Only exist. It’s quite freeing.”

Stretch looked...entirely miserable, cringing a bit. His voice was a quiet whisper when he spoke again, so different from the exuberance and wit he’d been showing.

“...i’m sorry.” He chuckled nervously. “y’know what they say about assuming, right? makes an ass outta u and me.”

Before he could explain he wasn’t bothered by the question, Stretch stood all-too-quickly, downing the lemonade and setting the glass down.

“well, uh, i’ve bothered you long enough, let me just--” He turned and saw Edge holding out his mail, which he’d set down to indulge in his hospitality. “yes. that. and, uh, i’ll get out of your--you don’t have hair. i don’t--we don’t have hair.”

He stepped away quickly, bumping into a small table holding a potted plant, and he scrambled to catch it, setting it back on the table securely with another nervous laugh. Edge chuckled genuinely, making Stretch blush just a little bit. It was cute, the soft honey glow of his magic.

Edge followed him the last few feet to the door, choosing not to ask for a forwarding address. Eventually he’ll have to call him back to get more mail.

Into the summer heat he went, and Edge was already planning what to make for next time when Stretch paused, scratching his skull as if battling with himself, before turning around in a comical manner.

“look, i never do this, but i just made a pretty big fool of myself so i figure i have nothing to lose. can i see you again?”

“Yes,” Edge said immediately, not even a slight pause. Stretch blinked, taken aback.

“uh. i mean, not in a mail-pickup way. like, uh...a date? maybe?” he clarified, as if Edge hadn’t understood.

“Oh, I understood the question.”

There was silence, and Stretch relaxed, bringing one hand up to scratch his cheekbone idly. “...wow.”

“When?” Edge pressed, startling him from his stupor. The hand moved to cup his chin as the honey blush grew, revealing tiny freckles of orange flecked across the magic. He seemed to think hilariously hard about it, and then he smiled up at Edge.

“how about now?”

“Now?” Edge asked, raising a brow.

“yeah--” Stretch plunged his hands into his cargo pants pockets, eventually pulling out a couple crumpled pieces of paper. “--i, uh. i have these tickets? to the planetarium? they’re open until ten tonight, and they’re showing a special show on nebulae. see, there’s so many different kinds, so it’s hard to put them in one show, but if they classify them into supernova nebulae, dark nebulae, plane..tary...nebulae…”

He trailed off, his excitement going from ten to zero, and Edge felt disappointed. The look in his sockets had been so adorable, so happy to even  _ talk  _  about the nebulae.

“...i guess that’s pretty boring? b-but you can--”

“It sounds intriguing. I’d love to. Let me get my coat.”

“oh!” The smile returned, and Stretch shoved his hands into the pocket on the front of his hooded shirt, rocking back on his heels. “yeah, okay, m’not gonna go anywhere.”

Edge chuckled, turning to grab his coat from the hook. It was too hot to wear it now, but if his date was as excited about the planetarium as he seemed, and the place was open until ten, he might need it later.

He closed and locked the door, texting Antwan where he was going, to which he got a snarky, disbelieving message questioning the last time he went on a date. He ignored it.

Stretch chattered nervously, quiet at first, about nebulae and astronomy, and Edge made sure to look interested--by the time they finished the short walk to the planetarium, he was certain he’d learned everything the show was going to teach him, but it was worth it for the flushed, happy look on his counterpart’s face.

“hey,” Stretch said, stopping short suddenly in the middle of talking about everything being made of stardust. “i have a weird question.”

“Hmm?”

Edge turned back to his date, who was looking suddenly very shy.

“um...do you believe in fate?” He asked softly, playing with something in his pocket, fidgeting. “like, clandestiny, everything happens for a reason…”

“Soulmates?”

The silence and deep flush of Stretch’s cheekbones was his answer.

“I’ll be very honest,” Edge sighed, crossing his arms. “This morning, I would have said absolutely not.”

Stretch eyed him curiously. “...and now?”

There was a pause, and Edge smiled at him. It felt right, this thing, as if in some other timeline they already knew this was good.

“I’d have to say yes. I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to follow me for more updates and shenanigans!  
> [Menagerie ask blog](https://mks-magical-menagerie.tumblr.com/)  
> [Main blog](https://msmkcreates.tumblr.com/)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MsMKcreates)  
> [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsMK)


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